Bobby's Daughter
by Midnight Starshine
Summary: Castiel doesn't know what to think of her. She is a friend, but that isn't exactly the word he feels describes her. Just who is Tessa, and why does Castiel feel so weird about her? One-shot turned series, please read!
1. Prolouge

Castiel stood in silence, watching from the kitchen doorway. He was confused, conflicted, and absolutely clueless. He didn't have time for nonsense, not with the apocalypse underway, but he still couldn't pull himself from his spot. It was a beautiful sight, at the very least, and he felt he could watch it forever. Not that it would last, he knew that, but he still didn't want the moment to be over just yet.

The sun shone through the kitchen window, the only source of light, and basked the room in a soft morning glow. Smells, delicious, wonderful smells wafted from the stove, a type of candy bread and pig meat cooking to perfection. The crackle of the bacon, the slight buzz of the burners, and a wondrous tune without lyrics or recognition were the only sounds. But the scene wasn't the only thing that was beautiful. It was a mere backdrop, an insignificant landscape to the portrait of _her_.

He wasn't sure when the odd feeling started, only that it was just for her. Her liked her, he knew that, but it wasn't the same as his like for Dean or Sam. He felt _warm_ when he was near her, especially if she smiled. Or when she would put her hand on his shoulder, stare into his eyes and ask if he was alright, if he was okay with everything. She never asked for help, for a favor, she only asked after him, if he needed anything. She wouldn't let him fade into the background as Sam, Dean, and Bobby talked, she wouldn't let him be forgotten or ignored. If anything, she paid him more mind than Dean.

So she was a friend, then. That's the conclusion his mind came to, but it didn't sit quite right. Dean was his friend, but he didn't feel exceptionally happy when he talked to Dean. He thought that maybe it was because she was a girl, that her more feminine nature was a welcome relief from his usual company. Yet Anna was a girl too, more of a gruff and tough girl, but a woman nonetheless. Was it because of who her father was? Did Bobby have anything to do with it? It wasn't the most probable answer, but it was an answer.

A sharp sizzle and a sound of triumph brought Castiel back from his thoughts. She was in front of the stove, spatula in hand, gazing at the food with a substantial amount of concentration. He watched as she reached up and ran her free hand through her long auburn hair. It snagged a bit, getting caught in the mess of curls, but to him they fell perfectly every day. Her hand dropped back to her side, adjusting her loose, flannel shirt, then rested at her hip.

She wasn't dressed to impress, just her usual old shirt and jeans, but she was still stunning. The ill fitting outfit left much to the imagination, but from the break-in to the Crowley manor, he knew she was slender. Curved in all the right places, then muscled where it mattered. Bobby often referred to her as: "cute as a button," but Castiel didn't understand what was so cute about a button.

She was strong too, not as strong as any of the boys, but she could hold her own. Whenever Bobby would let her, she was out taking down evil, and she has proven on more than one occasion that she can take care of herself. Yet Castiel still found himself worrying about her. She could talk-the-talk and walk-the-walk, but he still took unnecessary chances during a fight to make sure she was fine. He noticed Sam and Dean would do it too, so maybe they felt the same way as he did about her. He remembered that they once referred to her as: "like a sister." Did that mean Castiel saw her as a close family member as well? It was possible, but it still didn't explain everything he felt.

Who was Tessa to him?

Another flip and sizzle, and she was back to humming again. She went to the sink, cleaning up last night's mess, and Castiel wondered why she always cleaned up after everyone. She didn't have to, she just does it, no thanks necessary. She never asked for assistance, never grumbled or complained about the housework, and she rarely ever raised her voice. No one ever lent her a helping hand, yet she was there for every scrape or bruise, be it major or minor, and would silently bandage your wounds without so much as a scornful glance.

She told everyone to be more careful or tease them about learning new moves, but she never got angry with anyone. She was kind, caring and beautiful, strong and helpful, and she was often heard scoffing at the idea of being a damsel in distress. She was by no means a perfectionist, but to Castiel she seemed perfect. He didn't understand why or how she was perfect, he could point out major flaws to her character, but somehow they only made her better.

Castiel heard steps coming from the stairs, and he guessed Sam or Dean had woken up. Tessa must have heard it too, for she turned around to face whoever it was. She spotted Castiel in the doorway and looked momentarily shocked, but it soon broke way for a bright smile. It practically glowed warmth and comfort, and Castiel felt a stirring deep in his stomach. He couldn't help it, he smiled back. While her's was natural and welcoming, his was small and a bit shy.

An image of the cupid shot into his mind, but not the cupid itself. Its job, what cupid stood for to humans, that's what he thought of, and he felt like maybe he was just hit with one of its arrows. Was that it, was that what he was feeling? It felt _right_, but it couldn't be. His smile faltered a bit, but Tessa didn't seem to mind as she walked forward to greet him. She pulled him into a gentle embrace, her warm and smooth voice asking how he was, what he needed. He simply stood there, unsure of himself and her. He looked up to see Dean in the kitchen now, and made eye contact with him while Tessa released him all too soon. Castiel blinked and looked down at her, did he he get shot with cupid's infamous arrow?

Was he in love with Tessa Singer?

* * *

**Okie dokie, then. I just had to get this out of my system, watching Supernatural I couldn't help but want to put my own OC with the darling little Castiel! Anywho, I was debating doing this as a story, but I already have sooooooo many stories to update that this will just have to stay a one-shot for now. Tell me what y'all think! Please review!**


	2. Returning Home

It was getting cold, more so than late July called for. The trees were changing colors too, not in the extreme reds or oranges, but yellow was speckled with the green. I pulled my jean jacket closer to myself, warding off the wind chill. I took a few deep breaths, inhaling the crisp air as I tried to steel my nerves. It had been so long, and I wouldn't lie, I was a little ashamed of myself. It wasn't like I was crawling back on my hands and knees, begging for forgiveness, but I still felt odd returning here.

But he needs me now, I can't just leave him by himself. I should have been here sooner, I should have been there for him when he really needed me, not just cleaning up the aftermath. I just couldn't take it anymore. It was hard, leaving, but I needed some space; Sam did it too and he never felt guilty about it. I left to get an education, what was wrong with that? He would understand, right? He never wanted the hunter life for me, or anyone for that matter, but I still felt like I betrayed him in the worst way possible.

God, at this rate I'll never get over there.

I took another deep breath, forcing my legs to move into the lot. Dead plants and huge weeds popped up from under old and rusty cars. Gravel crunched under foot and a few pieces of garbage rolled across the driveway. It was quiet, as usual, but it was still a bit unsettling. I remembered years ago when this place was clean and lively, when my mother would chase me around the broken down cars and my father would laugh as he fixed one of them up. Ever since the incident though, things around here turned much more somber.

After my mother was possessed I spent a lot more time indoors, in rooms that were closed off from the rest of the world. When it came time for me to start my education, I was homeschooled. No need to take the chance that something would happen to me while I was outside of the house. You could say I was sheltered, _very_ sheltered. The only people near my age I ever spent time with was Sam, Dean, and Jo. Sam and Dean weren't around often, but even when they were neither of them would give me the time of day. They always thought they were so cool, that I was too little to play with. Sam is only a year and a half older than me, but I guess that year and a half really mattered to a seven year old.

Jo was different though, she was a little younger than me but we got along just fine. Whenever Ellen was here, Jo and I were inseparable. I hadn't seen here in a while, at least not since before I left. We kept in touch though, through thick and thin, and sent letters back in forth along with text messages' keeping up with each other. I remember when she told me about her first hunt, when she met Dean and fell head over heels for the jerk. I still haven't let her live that one down, and I swore I would get them two together.

Well, I would have.

And that brought me back to the reason why I was here in the first place. Dean is in Hell, and Bobby practically lost his son. Not that I was jealous or anything, I love Sam and Dean as my brothers. I can't believe they never called on me though, for backup or for moral support; I was never even told that John went missing. They were practically family, and they never even called on me in such a tough time. Maybe I should have never left, then I could have helped, and maybe Dean wouldn't be damned.

I felt sad that he was gone, but I won't lie, I also felt disconnected, like it wasn't true. When I heard, I decided that it was time to come home, to be there for Bobby and to realize that my life before was just a trick of the lighting. It was so peaceful, and nothing ever went wrong, but I never stopped looking over my shoulder and I knew that white picket fences and golden retrievers were not the life for me.

Besides, I am more of a cat person anyway.

I was roused from my thoughts when I realized where I was. I found myself at the off-white and dingy front door. I couldn't remember going up the creaky steps or even getting close to the old house. I was here now though, and I hesitated for a moment before I knocked on the door. At first there wasn't any noise from inside the house, so I knocked again. I listened hard, turning around to make sure that at least one working vehicle was in front of the house. A blue pick-up truck and an old and mismatched camaro sat in front of the house. I hoped that meant he was home, but I was also a bit relieved he didn't answer. I knocked again, a bit louder this time, and eventually heard something on the other side of the door. It sounded like grumbling, a few curses could be made out, and heavy footsteps neared. I held my breath, and as the door opened I smiled like a little girl who knew she was in trouble. As soon as I saw his gruff and round face and usual baseball cap, my smile turned a bit more sincere.

"Hi Daddy."

It was strange, standing there in silence as Bobby stared at me. The way he was scrutinizing me you would think I was an alien. Or a demon, the depressing side of my head added in. I knew I haven't been home in a long while, but was my arrival really that surprising? Its not like I never called or anything, I even sent cards and photos for the holidays! I knew that it wasn't good enough, but at least I didn't cut all ties. I didn't leave because I don't love him, as lame as it sounds, I just needed to get away for a while.

I didn't notice him reach for something behind him until he dumped it on my head. I blinked in surprise then shivered, holy water is cold.

"Is silver next, or salt?"

He paused, as if still not believing I was standing right in front of him. "I'll be damned," he muttered, and I was pulled into a tight hug. I wrapped my arms around him, sighing in relief that I was welcomed home with open arms. After the holy water, of course. He pulled away and held me at arms length, looking me up and down. Once he was finished he looked me in the eyes, confusion written all over him. "Why?"

"What? I can't just drop by and say hey?" I asked, stalling the inevitable. I wasn't sure if he was wondering why I was there or why I left. He never asked, and I never knew if he just didn't want to know the answer or if he already did.

"Never have before, don't know why you'd start now."

I laughed, I couldn't help it. I still felt like I was in for a world of trouble, but I was happy that he wasn't showing anger yet. "Alright, alright. Let's just get this check-up over with."

I pushed passed him and walked in, absorbing the familiar surroundings of the entry hall. The area hadn't changed a bit, well, except for being dirtier than I remember. There were books lying everywhere, and I swore I saw a rodent scurry behind a stack of them. I held in a sound of disgust, wondering how it got this bad in the short while I was away.

I walked into the kitchen, plopping down on one of the rickety wooden chairs and took my jacket off. I rolled up my sleeves, exposing my pale arm. "Let's do this quickly, I hate this part."

He tossed me a small blade, and I deftly caught it. I cut myself lightly on my biceps, hissing in pain as it cut through my skin. There was no sizzle or puff of smoke that revealed me to be anything more or less than human. A small line of blood dribbled from the cut but I ignored it and pulled my sleeve back down. Next I reached to the center of the table and pulled the salt shaker to me. The cap made a sharp squeak of protest as I opened it and I dumped a little of it on my hand. Again, nothing out of the ordinary happened, just as I knew it would-or wouldn't. I dumped the salt back into its container and put it back where I found it, dreading looking back at Bobby. I kept my gaze on the walls, the floor, the massive amounts of clutter everywhere, basically anywhere but his indubitably upset face.

I wasn't sure if he'd be angry or disappointed or even sad, I had no idea what to expect. I twiddled my thumbs, leaning back in the old wooden chair with faux ease of mind. He pulled out the chair across from me and sat down, crossing his arms over his chest and stared at me. This new angle made it hard to avoid his gaze, but the second button down on his flannel shirt was surprisingly interesting. The mix of browns and reds blended together like marble really pulled out the colors already present in the box patterns of the fabric. If you looked really closely you could even see that it was chipped a bit, knowing him it was probably in some fight against a supernatural foe and he never even noticed. The twine used to secure it to his shirt was black, which wasn't odd, seeing as the dark color was hardly noticed in the stitching and faded into the shirt fairly well. In fact, if it was any other-

"Ya just gonna sit there and stare all day, or are ya gonna say somethin'?" Bobby asked, breaking me from my thoughts. I shifted in my seat and raised my eye to his. There was no anger or disappointment, but there was a little sadness in his blue eyes. It hurt me to see it there, but I didn't know if I was totally to blame for its presence.

"Uh, I really like what you've done with the place?" I meant it as a joke to break the ice, but it came out as more of a question. My voice sounded weak to me, and I thought it made me look like an unsure little girl about to be punished.

Bobby snorted and rolled his eyes. "Everything is in place, I know how to find it all."

"Oh."

We lapsed into silence again, and I didn't know how to break it. Usually I didn't mind not speaking, but I felt like there was so much I wanted to tell him, about the people I met and the things I did, but I also wanted to ask about Sam and Dean. I looked back at the bookshelves in the living room. I could see all the different books on lore and mythology. That could be a safe subject.

I cleared my throat and looked back at Bobby. He looked like he was waiting, as if he was expecting something. I almost lost my nerve but I couldn't back down now. "I got a bachelors degree."

He raised an eyebrow. "In what?"

"Divinity."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, and I took several language classes including latin, ancient greek, and even a few more common ones like japanese."

"Did vos aliquid addiscere?"

I smiled before I responded, "Quidem, did you ever doubt me?"

"Never," he smiled. Relief flooded my system, maybe he wasn't that upset. He unfolded his arms and laid them out on the table. "Now, when you gonna make us some chow?"

* * *

**Did vos aliquid addiscere**?-_Did you learn anything?_

**Quidem**-_Indeed_

**Still a trial basis! I want to keep writing this, but I get distracted SOOOO easily... I always wanna start a new story with my good ideas, then I never update anything... But! My new years resolution is to complete every story I have on here within the year! Good luck to me... I'll need it.**


	3. Old Friends - Part One

It was a little over a month from when I showed up at the front door. Bobby told me what happened, with John and the yellow-eyed demon and the gate to Hell. I knew about Sam's new powers and the demon that is supposedly 'helping' him with them. It seemed like such a busy three years, I had no idea that it all was happening right under my nose. When I asked Bobby why no one ever came to me for help he told me they didn't want to drag me into it. They all thought I had escaped hunting and the 'life', but it never really leaves you alone.

I told him about college, and sometimes when I told him stories he actually looked _proud_. It was moments like that, when I saw that in a way he approved of what I did, I felt okay and the guilt didn't ever register. He said he accepted me leaving, and while he wasn't much for long talks on emotions and heart felt hooey, he made sure I knew he forgave me long ago. It was a relief, and although I hated the fact that I came back because of Dean's death, I still felt happy.

The screen door opened with an audible protest and the floorboards from the hall groaned under new weight. I peeked out of the kitchen and saw Bobby entering the house with a few paper bags in his arms. I stood up from my chair and went to him, grabbing a bag and bringing it farther into the house.

"Didja get anything good?"

"'Course! Beer, chips, and some candy."

I laughed, "What about for dinner?"

"Beer, chips, and candy."

"Whatever," I sighed, my smile still in place. Bobby placed the rest of the stuff on the counters and I reached behind me for a small flask. I slowly unscrewed the top, then, with a quick movement, splashed the contents on his face.

He glared at me, but I could see how empty it was. "I ain't no demon, ya idjit."

"Well_ excuse me_ if I don't believe you."

He scoffed, and I turned back to the bags as he went into the cluttered living room. I began unloading the contents and noticed that there was more than what he said. Two small steaks went in the fridge to keep cool for supper and I set aside a few potatoes from their bag for later peeling. The bags themselves were folded and stuffed under the sink, hidden for eventual use. I shuffled over to the living room, dropping onto the couch and watched Bobby sift through several newspapers at his desk. I sat there for at least a solid minute before I grew bored with the silence and snatched one from him. I glanced briefly at the date -Thursday, September 18th- then flipped to the comics section.

I was mid-giggle when Bobby's phone went off. I glanced at him curiously as he crammed his hand into his pockets and dug out the mobile device. He didn't even glance at the number before he flipped it open with a snap of his wrist and pressed it to his ear.

"Yeah?" he asked. His faced looked a little confused before he repeated himself, "Yeah?" There was a small silence where I could hear someone on the other end answer, but I couldn't make out what the voice said. "Who's 'me'?" He asked, his nose scrunched the person on the other end said mustn't have pleased him, because Bobby immediately hung up and tossed the phone on the desk.

"Who was it?" I asked, completely curious. Bobby opened his mouth to answer when the phone cut him off, ringing again.

"Who is this?" he demanded, getting angry. There was a pause, and then, "This ain't funny. Call again, I'll kill ya." Bobby hung up again, making a sound of frustration or anger, I'm not sure, and got up to snatch the paper away from me. He sat back down, still glaring at the phone and set it on the desk none too gently.

* * *

The afternoon went quickly, and I did nothing but tidy up the house. I was making good headway, the house was looking better, less leaks, less rodents, and less dust. Bobby wouldn't let me try and organize his collection of books on lore, so the house still looked cluttered.

I was busy on the first floor bathroom, attempting to get some mold off of the ceiling, when I swore I heard someone pull up in a car. I jumped down from the toilet and pulled up the blinds. Sure enough, a beaten up old car pulled into the lot, and a man got out of it. When he glanced my way I quickly dropped the blinds back into their position and ran to find Bobby.

"Daddy! Dad!" I called, running up to his desk. He sat there, waiting for me to speak. "There's a guy! Do you think he's here for business? When was the last time you made honest money?" I asked, my words coming out rushed and excited.

"Calm down Tessa, I do legit business all the time!" I rolled my eyes at him but let him continue. "Anyway, it might be a demon, so just_ stay hidden_. I'll go check it out." I nodded, making my way back into the kitchen and hiding under the desk as he went to the door. The man banged on the door and Bobby swung it open, blocking my view of the man.

They were both quiet, then the man spoke. "Surprise." He sounded familiar, probably a hunter friend of Bobby's I've met once or twice before. I popped my head above the desk, trying to get a good look at the guy.

"I-I don't..." Bobby stuttered, sounding more than a little confused.

"Yeah, me neither," the man said, stepping farther inside. "But, here I am."

I still couldn't see him, but I watched Bobby grab a knife from a small table behind him. I could barely follow what happened, but Bobby lunged, slashing at the stranger. He caught Bobby's arm and twisted it around, but Bobby broke from the man's grip. He called out Bobby's name, but Bobby simply backhanded him, sending him stumbling into the kitchen. I ducked quickly back under the desk, hiding from view.

"Bobby!Wait!" he called, and once again I was struck with how familiar his voice sounded.

"My ass," Bobby scoffed, starting towards the man again. I inched to the side of the desk and peeked around it. Bobby still blocked most of my view, but the man wore dark jeans and a green shirt. When he moved I could finally see his face, he looked like, well, he looked like Dean. _"But Dean is dead, in Hell, he can't be here,"_ I thought to myself. _"Oh God, then that must mean it's a shifter, I HATE shifters!"_

The shifter got caught between the desk I hid behind and the kitchen cabinets. Without seeing me he took the chair from the desk and threw it between itself and Bobby. He held it in place and squatted behind it, trying to talk to Bobby. "Woah, woah, woah, wait!" He lifted his arm up in an attempt to hold Bobby at bay. "Your name is Robert Steven Singer, you became a hunter after your wife got possed," he paused, pointing his outstretched hand at his chest. "You're about the closest thing I have to a father. Bobby, it's me," he implored. The shifter almost looked to be begging Bobby to believe him. He slowly stood from behind the chair and raised his hands to show he was unarmed and meant no threat. Bobby approached, tossing the chair to the side, still clutching the knife in his hand. Bobby reached out, placing a cautious hand on the shifter's shoulder, as if to assure himself he was real. The shifter -or maybe it really was Dean- gave a sheepish smile and nodded his head.

Unexpectedly, Bobby's face turned hard and he once again slashed at the creature. The shifter blocked Bobby and used his momentum to pin his arms behind his back and take the knife. "I'm not a shapeshifter!" he yelled, shoving Bobby away from himself.

"Then you're a Revenant!" Bobby yelled back. The 'not shifter' held the knife out, pointing it at Bobby and Bobby took a step back, watching the hand with the knife in it. I stared up at Bobby, trying to get his attention, waiting for him to give me some _inkling_ of what to do. I made a soft scratching noise on the floor, but he kept staring, I cleared my throat a little, but he refused to look at me. I eventually gave up and slunk as quietly as I could back farther under the desk and out of sight.

"Alright, if I was either, could I do this-" he started to pull up his left sleeve, "-with a silver knife?" Once the cloth was bunched up at his shoulder, he put the knife to his skin and took a deep breath. After a moments hesitation, he cut into his biceps. Blood trickled from the wound, but other than a slight grimace there was no other reaction. No sizzling or bubbling or other supernatural tell-tales, he was clean.

He was Dean.

"Dean?" Bobby questioned, his voice barely above a whisper and full of disbelief.

Dean gave a slight shrug and stated with relief, "That's what I've been trying to tell you." Dean walked over to Bobby and they hugged, clasping each other on the back in utter joy. Bobby held onto Dean as if he were a lifeline, and Dean clung to Bobby as if he were the only thing keeping him here on Earth. But what did I know, maybe thats what it was.

I slowly got up and out from under the desk, a smile plastered on my face. I could practically feel the familiar love radiating from the two. In all honesty, it made me want to cry a little. I watched as they pulled apart, still staring at each other. "It's-it's good to see ya, boy," Bobby breathed, his voice heavy with unshed tears.

"Yeah, you too." Dean grabbed Bobby's shoulder and held tight, still afraid to let go.

I broke in, not wanting to ruin the moment but still needing to hug Dean myself. "Dean," I choked out, warm streaks falling in silent paths down my cheeks. "God, I'm glad to see you."

Dean looked surprised, glancing between me and Bobby. "Tessa? What're you-"

I cut him off, "Three years and I can't ever drag a hug outta ya?" I grabbed him and pulled him to me, wrapping my arms around his waist. He immediately hugged me back, letting me bury my face in his chest for a moment before I let go. I sniffled and looked up at him, "You look awful."

"Thanks, puffy eyes and a red nose really suits you too."

"Shuddup." I smacked him playfully on the arm, smiling all the way.

"I hate to break this up, but-" Bobby interrupted. "... how did you bust out?"

"I don't know." Dean turned away, staring at the floor. "I just, uh, I just woke up in a pine box..." Dean trailed off as once again Bobby interrupted by splashing holy water into Dean's face. Dean blinked, surprised yet not, and spit whatever got into his mouth onto the floor. "I'm not a demon either y'know."

"Sorry," Bobby apologized, still holding the holy water. He gave a quick upwards quirk of his lips.

"Can't be too careful!" I added, trying to keep a light hearted tone. I turned away from the two of them to grab some towels. I opened a cabinet and rustled a few out from behind the new bag of potatoes, careful not to bruise any. I walked back over to them and handed Dean one, using the rest to clean off where he spit it out. "Gross," I muttered when I noticed a particularly thick area with saliva. Dean had wiped his face and tossed the green and white striped towel over his shoulder.

I continued cleaning up after their little fight and they walked into the living room. "But... that don't make a lick of sense."

"Yeah. Yeah, you're preachin' to the choir," Dean retorted.

Bobby stopped once he was behind his desk and turned to look at Dean. "Dean, your chest was ribbons, you're insides were slop. You've been buried _four months_. Even if you could slip out of Hell and into your meat suit-"

This time Dean interrupted Bobby, "I know, I should look like a Thriller video reject."

"What do you remember?"

"Not much. I remember I was a Hellhound's chew toy, and then... lights out. The I come to six feet under, and that was it." Bobby sat down, patiently listening to dean. "Sam's number's not working. He's, uh... he's not..."

"Oh, he's alive. As far as I know." I couldn't see Dean's face, but at the news his shoulders and back relaxed, he was probably worried sick.

"Good," Dean paused as if he just remembered all of what Bobby said. "Wait, what do you mean, as far as you know?" Dean walked around the desk, staring down at Bobby.

"I haven't talked to him in months." If I wasn't mistaken, I'd say Bobby looked a little miffed. Probably because Sam can't be bothered to call once in a great while, even I did better than that when I shot off the radar.

"You're kidding, you just let him go off by himself?"

"He was dead set on it," Bobby explained, getting up from his spot.

"Bobby, you should've been looking after him," Dean accused. Now I felt insulted. You don't _let_ a Winchester boy do _anything_, we are not their keepers. I grumbled to myself but they either didn't hear me or ignored me. I set the hand towels to the side and began my potato peeling, still keeping my eyes and ears on their conversation.

"I tried," Bobby stressed, he sounded like he was getting defensive, and I would too. Bobby did try, and Dean had no right to tell him what he 'did wrong'. "These last few months haven't been exactly easy, you know. For him or for me. We had to bury you."

Dean looked down, hopefully in shame for his insensitive words. "Why did you bury me, anyway?"

"I wanted you salted and burned. Usual drill." Dean nodded his agreement. "But... Sam wouldn't have it."

"Well, I'm glad he won that one."

He said you'd need a body when he got you back home somehow. That's about all he said."

"What do you mean?" Dean asked, his voice laced with suspicion.

"He was quiet. Real quiet," Bobby said, sitting down on the top of his desk. "And then he just took off. Wouldn't return any of my calls. I tried to find him, but he didn't want to be found."

Dean closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. "Dammit Sammy."

"What?"

"Oh, he got me home okay. But whatever he did, it is bad mojo."

"What makes you so sure?"

"You should have seen the grave site. It was like a nuke went off. And then there was this," Dean paused, unsure of how to explain it. "this force, this presence, I don't know, but it, it blew past me at a fill-up joint. And then this," Dean stopped and pulled off his green button up and shoved up the sleeve to his t-shirt. I looked at him curiously and almost dropped the potato I was holding.

"What in the Hell?" Bobby approached him and stared at it, this odd handprint that looked _branded_ onto his shoulder.

"It was like a demon just yanked me out. Or rode me out."

"But why?"

"To hold up their end of the bargain."

"You think Sam made a deal."

"Its what I would have done."

* * *

**I had my computer taken away, so it might be a while before I update again. Hooray for school computers not blocking Fanfiction! Please review! PLEASE!**


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